


Vanguards Make Better Lovers (Vanguards Are Massive Dicks)

by pibroch (littleblackdog)



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst and Humor, Gen, Humor, Injury, M/M, Vanguards are fantastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-13
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-14 03:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackdog/pseuds/pibroch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They might be effective, but as far as Kaidan was concerned, Shepard's tactics occasionally left something to be desired.  Something like sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vanguards Make Better Lovers (Vanguards Are Massive Dicks)

**Author's Note:**

> They're not perfect, they're not always popular, but goddamnit I love Vanguards. Sunshine hugs for everyone!

“What we need is a fucking sniper rifle.”  Ducking back behind their copious wall of cover, Vega fiddled with the scope of his Valkyrie.  “They’re dug in, but if we had someone up on that ridge, laying down some suppressing fire on their left flank—”

“James.”  Looking entirely unconcerned, just squatting and waiting, Shepard held up one hand to cut the lieutenant off.  Cerberus hadn’t noticed them yet, and they were far enough back from the defense line that lowered voices weren’t going to give them away.  Unfortunately, that distance didn’t have a speck of cover beyond their current roost, leaving a good hundred metres of killing field before they’d be up the bastards’ asses.  “Unless you want to head back and check those mooks inside for a spare Mantis, we’re SOL for that option.”

“Hey, Shepard, gimme a sec.”  Pulling up his omnitool, Kaidan punched in a few commands, checking distance and tweaking some settings.  When they got back to the Normandy, his first stop was going to be checking what sort of deal Cortez could work out to get him a high quality visor.  The recharge boost John was getting to his amp from that Archon model was pretty impressive, and it’d be nice to have a HUD without a full helmet.  “Okay, I can overload their shield generators from here.  After that, a couple of grenades might do the trick.”

Vega shook his head, leaning back against the crates.  “Yeah, you got any?  ‘Cause I’m out.  Low on clips, too.”

“Hold up,” John said, peeking around the corner.  Kaidan couldn’t see his face, but he recognized that dangerously gleeful lilt sneaking into John’s usually unflappable tone.  It was not a good sound.  “Yeah.  Yeah, I got this.  Watch my six.”

_Shit, shit, **shit** , not this again—_

“John—” The air went still and cold, time almost seemed to slow as biotics licked outward in a nimbus, and the rush of bitter ozone smell hit Kaidan before the blinding glare of violet had even faded.  John was gone with a roar, then a rumbling blast from his modded shotgun, and the Cerberus troops were shouting a half-second later.  “Son of a  _bitch_.”

* * *

 

Inside the shuttle stank like spent ammo and burnt meat— the former was standard, but the latter was probably the main reason Kaidan could feel the first faint bites of a migraine threatening to take root behind his eyes.  At the moment though, he just had one monster of a headache.

“Ow,  _ow_!  Shit Kaidan, go easy—” Luckily for all of them, John shut the hell up when Kaidan levelled a particularly hard glance up at him.  The black scales of Shepard’s Serrice chestplate were twisted and buckled in so deep on one side that they were digging into his ribs, and if he’d managed to avoid broken bones it was entirely due to titanium lattice and pure dumb luck.  The smoking holes in his shoulder guard were the source of the human barbecue stench, and Kaidan was currently in the process of prying the whole mess off him, medic training insisting he check the wounds even if John argued that his _robot parts would take care of it_.

The ruined chestplate hit the deck with a clank; Kaidan resisted the urge to kick it, because it would have been childish, inappropriate, and honestly he really wanted to kick John instead.  John, whose black utility shirt had bloody, singed holes torn through right at the shoulder seam, even though the skin underneath was bright pink and only faintly marked by a trio of dark, bruising divots.  Healed, mostly.  Didn’t even need medigel.

Reaching over, Kaidan prodded at Shepard’s back, looking for a similar wet, ragged tears blown out the other side of his shirt, and finding nothing but sweaty synthetic weave.  “Exit wounds?”

“Nope.”  John shrugged a little, deltoid and trapezius rippling easily under Kaidan’s hand.  He couldn’t feel any remaining problems or deformities under the skin, even if the screwed up face John made indicated some lingering soreness.  “Might’ve hit bone, but the slugs pushed themselves out before we got to the LZ.  Incendiary rounds, hurt like hell.”

“I bet.”  Vega was conspicuously absent, loitering up behind Cortez, but Kaidan wasn’t about to try and hash this out until they were back in Shepard’s cabin.  Instead, he straightened out of his squat and moved over to drop into another seat, putting some distance between them.  John was going to live ( _this time_ ), and probably not even scar. 

They were still coming out of atmo, and the shuddering of the bulkheads wasn’t doing much for the throbbing in his skull, but Kaidan closed his eyes anyway, leaning his head back.  He heard John’s surprised grunt, but ignored it.

There was stupidly reckless, and then there was John Shepard.  Some days, Kaidan couldn’t tell the difference, wasn’t sure there  _was_  a difference.  Those times he thought maybe, just maybe, John had actually started believing all that bullshit about being indestructible.  Or he’d discovered one more thing to rate higher priority than keeping is own ass intact.  Commander Shepard got results, as always, but that was a sour sort of comfort. 

Results or no, Kaidan wasn’t going to stop calling him out on all the stupid, reckless stunts he pulled.  And Shepard wasn’t ever going to hold back; he was nothing if not capable, steadfastly reliable… and reliably goddamn nuts.


End file.
